For Every Word, Grant Me Your Ear Brother
by Ardina
Summary: Short and sweet. Sentimental and ruthless. Random and Destined. Piety and the Heathen.A series of scenes with no connection to eachother apart from the fact they have Van Helsing characters interacting.
1. Gabriel

**So in a futile attempt to revise a bit of Chemistry, I found myself day dreaming instead(trust me on this...it is not the hardest thing to do when faced with Carboxylic Acids and ther derivitives)...**

**This is the result of _that_ boredem...a short one-shot between Dracula and the monster hunter himself, Van Helsing.**

**A strange encounter that started with one purpose, twists through another and ends with self discovery. I'm looking for the characters here and how they might of actually interacted given a longer amount of time and no interuption...of any kind. As some might guess, from reading this piece, time has passed from the "earlier" encounter. The brides are gone, Anna is dead, Carl is not even present, but the Count is brought back and Van Helsing has been sent by the Order to get rid of him...**

**(Deep Breath)**

**And on we plunge... **

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**For Every Word Grant Me Your Ear Brother**

"A pessimist is an optimist with experience", he grated not appreciating the words that had been thrown soo flippantly at him by his eternal enemy.

"Calm yourself _brother_", the last word was emphasized with particular zest. The creature known as Dracula smirked with evil venom knowing full well the effect of the endearment. The look on the monster hunter's face was mutinous.

Van Helsing and the creature stood in heated silence. Neither of the two moved to provoke further conversation in the cold and heady night air. The arena itself suited both their personalities. As much as Van Helsing would be loath to admit it; the two were very much of the same mould. The difference came as to how they expressed themselves. It all came down to how they were leaving their mark on the face of the scared earth. The suffocating dark of the cold night air crept into the foyer of the ruined castle making for a somber atmosphere. He was not afraid of the dark. Van Helsing had never been afraid of the dark. Far into the mountains and away from the safe, enclosed and restricted nature of civilization he was still not afraid. Other men would have trembled faced with the demon creature before him now. They would have run to the far reaches of the earth to avoid it, let alone hunt it.

Here they met and not all by chance. The ragged material, resembling curtains of long ago, that clung to rails above high shattered windows blew in the glacial breeze. That same breeze caused the inky tendrils to fly across the pale face of an arrogant Count. In his poignant garb of black it was only his ghostly white features that appeared pronounced to the hunter in the eerie light of the moon. Monsters were very much real. Of that, Van Helsing could be very sure no matter how clouded and intricate the designs of his past may have been.

"Will you not speak to me first before you attempt to send me back to hell Gabriel?" The deep tones held that addictive lilt that had been the undoing of many a victim in the past. He walked to circle the hunter and the man he appeared to know soo well with a calculating pace, "Come now, God gave you soo many gifts Gabriel. Did not he give you the gift of conversation?"

"I have little to say to a monster".

"Oh how your words wound my non-existent soul", the Count mocked and clutched the area where his heart was meant to be.

Van Helsing followed his lithe movements around the ruined building as the Count slowly circled him. The moonlight poured into the ruins from large windows held in the cold stone of the walls. It poured over the Count contorting his features. One looked at him and would not be sure if they were staring into the face of a man or a malevolent devil. Van Helsing had heard little, but enough. He was a man of few words. Swinging around sharply, his left hand delved into his long coat in search of a silver stake. The Count smiled as Van Helsing retrieved nothing but air. A moment of unease over came the monster hunter. His weapons were missing.

"Forgive me my dear friend", he held his pale hands out to Van Helsing and walked towards him. The other man was unable to stop himself from taking a step back betraying the alarm he was feeling. The glow of the Count's eyes mocked him, "I have a few vices like we all do". The words were drawled and he had cause to continue when Van Helsing made no reply, "How is dear Anna?"

"Not missing you".

"And how would you know Gabriel? Did your God give you access to Heaven as well?" The Count turned away and said, "She's _dead_, isn't she?"

The words created a bitter taste in the mouth of Van Helsing and he had not been the one to even utter them. The silence drew itself out. Tension was building. The only sounds were that of the black Hessian boots against the hard stone of the ground as the Count walked towards a shattered window. Van Helsing still stood with his growing anger that threatened to consume him at any moment.

"Give into it", the Count said, but did not turn from viewing the rugged and icy landscape.

"Never", Van Helsing spat uncaring that the Count knew the emotions possessing him.

"It already drives you Gabriel", he turned with the crescent moon at his back and looked directly at Van Helsing, "What do you think brought you here?"

The monster hunter walked two paces towards the demon of the night and pointed in his direction, "You are the reason I am here once again".

"Really?" The demon raised an eyebrow, "What have I done now?"

"The Order will not rest until you are back where you belong-"

"This is Transylvania Gabriel", he threw one arm in the direction of the window revealing the landscape in the strange light.

"Where you belong in Hell", Van Helsing continued despite the unwelcome interruption.

"You did that already, or don't you remember that either?" The Count took no notice of the murderous look on the monster hunter's face and continued in sly tones, "Honestly Gabriel, you never remember. How do you still have faith in that God of yours when he took everything from you?"

"My faith and life's work is not-"

"How can you still believe? Do you ever question the things you do in this _job _of yours? How many years has it been and still no memory?"

"Unlike you I seek forgiveness. Through my work and my loss of identity is simply the penance I have to pay", the hunter finished.

"Used, that is what you are Gabriel. I told you before and you still never listen to me". He added quietly, "You never listened to me and look where we are now. Two different faces, but faces on the same coin".

"I am nothing like you".

"We loved the same woman-"

"Leave her in peace", Van Helsing grated in raw anger. The memory of Anna was still fresh in his mind despite the passing years without her.

"I didn't kill her", the demon snarled in return.

"She is gone, so let it be".

The Count, to the immense surprise of Van Helsing, let it go and then he placed his hands behind his back, let out an unnecessary breath and resumed his walk around the room. Van Helsing watched the demon closely from where he stood. He didn't want to contemplate the ideas and thoughts that the Count presented his mind with. This was the thing he was meant to kill and yet here he was part-taking in a conversation with it. He was meant to send it back to the deepest depths of Hell for the second time in the life he could remember. The Order had demanded it as soon as the reports had reached them. Something was lurking in dark Transylvania once more.

"We are forever in the search of something to ease the burden of our souls. Forever searching and never knowing what will prove to be the solution".

Van Helsing remained silent as he churned the words over in his mind.

"We are merciless in the face of the weakness of others. We do what they are too afraid to even contemplate", his hands rose to articulate his words. "What a sorry state we have let ourselves decline into. What has become of us? What terrible things we have allowed to befall us since our time on earth began". The demonic side to his features disappeared to leave the face of a man with true regret etched on his features.

Van Helsing did not wish to think of these things. To think of the Order and the things they demanded. He was a man of the truest and purest faith. He was above many a mortal as the left hand of God, known to always possess the greatest faith in the all mighty. As he stood and listened an enormous guilt over took his soul. It was guilt at experiencing the sensation of guilt. The feeling was made worse by the memory from soo many years before. It came from a time when the Frankenstein monster had been discovered by the Order. _Kill it. _Those had been the orders he received with a heavy heart that questioned the decision made. He had sensed no evil in the creature that was neither man nor animal. The Order knew nothing about the creature and yet they had demanded its blood to be spilt without a second thought. His outward appearance reflected none of his mind's workings, but the crafty Count knew better.

"You let it go".

"I let _him_ go", Van Helsing corrected the slight.

"How, how", the demon paused for effect, "Deceitful of the honorable Gabriel Van Helsing".

The famous monster hunter lifted his chin, but made no comment.

"Clever of you to remain silent", he brought his arms forward to be crossed over his chest, "But go on and drive my point further and prove what we both already know, apart from the fact I am always right".

"If you are _always_ right, then how come I killed you soo easily all those years before?" Van Helsing was coated in a rare feeling of satisfaction as his comment drew blood from the arrogant Count.

"You stray from the point", the demon hissed.

"What man doesn't question the things he does in life at one point or another-?"

"A man of the faithful", the Count suggested.

"Faith does not call for blind subservience".

"Does it not? Are you sure my friend?" The Count drew closer and walked towards the monster hunter. The shadows cast by the large pillars threw his face into light then darkness and so on as he drew closer. "To have true faith, you must believe _without _hesitation. Am I right?"

"Yes", was Van Helsing's laconic answer.

"Hesitation is to question. Am I right?"

Van Helsing did not wish to reply and so did not at first.

"Hesitation is to question. Am I right Gabriel?"

"Yes". The reply was stunted and unwilling.

"Then how can a thinking and naturally questioning man ever achieve true and pure faith in his God?" Van Helsing made no reply to the loaded question and so the Count continued in triumph, "Face it Gabriel, you never were a man of the faith you would die in the name of".

"I have more faith than you could ever have Dracula-"

"Your religion is for the weak and you have never truly embraced it. All it is, all it ever will be is a way for you to enjoy destruction and death with _good_ reason". The Count's eyes bored into the darker eyes of the man before him. "Do it in the name of God and it will be accepted. You are the monster here, not I. I may be at war with the world, but the things I do have a reason behind them. You on the other hand Gabriel, know nothing about anything and blindly go forward into the dark abyss of the unknown".

"I will hear no more of your manipulating lies. You are a liar and just trying to avoid being sent back to where you belong-"

"Hell, I know for you keep screeching the destination at me", the Count drawled. The Count turned his back on Van Helsing and began to walk towards the exit. Van Helsing made to grab the Count to stop him from leaving. To get hold of the demon and send him back to Hell where he truly belonged. However, all Van Helsing experienced at the action was cold air running through his fingertips. He blinked to clear his suddenly blurry vision. The demon had vanished before his eyes.

"Those are not the manners that your mother would have been proud of", the voice came for behind and was followed by a blow to the head that sent the monster hunter sprawling across the stone floor, "I would know".

Van Helsing was unable to reply and desperately tried to clear his thoughts. The blow ached and he felt blood ooze from his forehead. He had hit the cold stone floor with a considerable amount of force. He couldn't lift himself just yet from where he lay defenseless.

The Count walked over to where he lay and made a show of stepping over his fallen opponent. He lowered his frame to his haunches beside Van Helsing and said, "Perhaps you need more time to think _brother_ and then we shall see". With those last parting words the Count continued to the exit and walked out. Van Helsing was left to the sounds of the demon's boots becoming further and further away until nothing, but silence, was left and the voices of reason in his aching head.

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**Oh the mind games, hmmm...hope no1 gets offended by the whole "religion" topic...something to think about though isn't it?**

**Is blind faith the only real faith worth possessing?**

**Can a questioning mind have a solid standing in the world of religious faith? **


	2. Anna

**Welcome ladies and gentlemen to a little installment by yours truly. Yes the aspiring strange one known as Ardina. I couldn't be bothered to update "Embrace"… (Rolls Eyes). But it was such a lovely weekend and great 18th party attended that I could not help but simply write something…I give you another one-shot from the dark eyes of a Gypsy from long before the entrance of Gabriel Van Helsing…**

**Res Gestae**

_("Things Done")_

Where does one begin in a tale that is neither that of woe or joy? As I look back upon the part of my life that I have lived I cannot help, but wonder at such an oddity. The wick from my failing candle burns lower and lower as the midnight hour passes and so approaches the dawn.

I might have chosen to write the tale of what you are about to hear of, but I fear that my hands would be of better use clutching at a brandished sword. The night is always dark. My father never wished to see me waste time with pointless tasks of literature. He once said to me, "What use are words when a sword can halt a man in absolute silence?" At the time I rebelled and cared little for what my entire family had become obsessed with. His words seemed contrived with the idea of making my life a misery. I miss his words now.

But my little anecdotes don't make adequate sense to you, now do they? Here I am rambling on when you are ignorant of soo many things. I was like that once. I did not have many cares in the world. I was young and optimistic. I thought that would never change, but pain and sorrow make for persuasive companions.

It was age of sixteen that I first knew of _him._ Wait. No, allow me to rephrase that sentence for I do not wish for you to think me a spoiled child. That moment in time was forever branded on my memory. I met the man who would have an everlasting effect on my life, mind and to some extent my beating heart. I had been warned endlessly and Velkan, father and the others were always off somewhere in the hope of riding the land of _his _terror. At the time I was surrounded by my large family, there was no need for me to be the woman I became. I never listened to their words of caution.

Solitude was something I revelled in. Solitude in the beautiful land I am proud to call home was an even greater joy. I found out later that this joy of mine was shared by another. At the age of sixteen I promised to be a vague reflection of my mother; that was, at least what my father said. Perhaps that is why he chose to distance himself from me for soo long. From the painting that hung in one of the grand rooms above the fireplace I considered his judgement to be generous. I was nothing, nothing but the shimmering ripples in a pond compared to her exquisite beauty. Then again, perhaps I am the biased one since she was my mother and now she is dead. You may ask why I dwell upon such a trifle as to what I looked like? Maybe I should be able to give you an answer if you could tell me _why _he chose to not to kill me on that dawning day?

As I have said I was a rebellious young woman with wealth and privilege, perhaps I was even vain and ostentatious in my young ways. I could not sleep all through the night and into the early hours of that morning. The entire habit was void of life to any listener. I lay sprawled in an unladylike fashion across the cotton sheets of my bed and gave up on distant sleep. I dressed in a snow white garment and pulled a shawl around my shoulders to protect my fair skin from the bite of the glacial breeze. With my dark mid-length hair up in a careless twist I turned the handle of my chamber door carefully and ventured fourth. My bare feet padded along the cool stone and I berated myself for forgetting shoes in my agitated haste. Twice I stopped and barely breathed as I, apparently, heard someone moving around behind a wooden door. After each pause I would let out the air in my lungs in long sigh and then take in a much belated breath. My heart was pounding childishly in my breast as I finally made it onto the lonely green grounds of the large mansion that existed in gloom. I remember looking up and being mesmerized by the height of the north tower. It even had a large spire that darted towards the dark sky. My nurse maid would weave the most fantastic tales of Livia. Tales, I should mention that, if ever found out, my father would have been a very unhappy man. That morning I looked up at the enchanting tower with the ivy winding over the grey stone blocks and my mind travelled back to the woman of legendary beauty who threw herself off that particular tower. I was never sure of the political reasons that caused her_ love_ to be away from her for soo long, but the enemy he fought told her he was dead. In fateful moments of romantic tragedy she threw herself out the window, unable to live with the dreary prospect of living without him. My maid may have told me these tales of intrigue, but she refused to answer any questions on the matter. I often asked her who he was. The most I heard was that he had lived in this very house hundreds of years ago and that he had gone _mad _when his soul mate had taken her own life.

A sudden gust of wind drew my attention away from dreams and tragedian legends. My thin woollen shawl may have been of the finest quality and fetching in appearance, but it did very little in protecting me from the harsh bite of the wind. Tresses fell to frame my face and the white material of my dress floated out behind me in the wind as I walked towards the cover of trees. The dew soaked grass saturated the hem of my dress and I remember the cold clinging action of the material just as I remember the strange presence that over came all my five senses as the trees enclosed me. By now I was a fair distance from my home. Here the trees were dark and claustrophobic.

_He _wasted no time in making himself known to me.

"Good morning Anna", he said. I swear as the morning was young, the tiny and delicate hairs upon my neck stood on end at the sound. The skin that covered my arms tingled and it wasn't from the cold. I stood speechless and silent while I looked at him. He was tall, taller than I was at the age of sixteen. He wore black; he always wore black and sometimes I wondered later if it was not because he was in mourning for another life and another love. Although something within my young mind sent off warning calls, I could not help myself as his suave appearance and mannerisms took me in. From a young age I had been taught to hate him, but all I saw at our first meeting was a dark, but exquisitely charming stranger. Nothing of the terrible demon they described. I had no idea that our lives would be forever entwined.

"Where are your manners my child?" His words were infused with a Romanian lilt, like my own, but different. His appeared to be coloured by far more experience. He came towards were I stood in less than three strides. I remember vaguely that my eyes fell to the leaf strewn floor and focused on the shine of his black Hessian boots. The leaves had silenced his tread much as his close proximity continued to silence me. "Do not you know how to greet a _guest_?"

My eyes snapped to his face in the gloom of the trees as I sensed his mocking attitude. The hour of sunrise had not yet come to pass.

"You are the one they hate", I said without thinking to the handsome demon.

All he did was smile at me with eyes that seemed to know all and replied in a calm manner, "Yes, they do".

His simple reply registered within my mind and I knew it all at once. This was the creature known as Dracula. The one that the Valerious family had made it their generations task of ridding the earth of. The Valerious family was my family. There was every reason ricocheting back and fourth in my head to scream out loud. Not one of those reasons was fear for my own life, not because I was a brave martyr. No. I simply did not believe he would have hurt me then. Now I look back and remember his eyes, he knew that there would be another time where I would make a decision between him and another, until then I was his to charm.

"Many fear what they do not understand my dear and one day you shall understand such a thing-"

"Don't patronise me", I said. "Youth does not make for a village idiot".

"What a lashing tongue", he murmured. "I see that my wait will be worth while", he said more to himself than me. We stood there as the breeze rustled the leaves on the branches of the trees. There appeared to be no other life around us. Just the gloom before dawn covered the land of my birth in its watery lighting. For an inexplicable reason I was happy to stand there with him close to me. Later when my father went missing and my brother was no longer my brother, I would scream in anger at my stupid actions as a girl. I would berate myself in the future for not laying _his_ un-dead soul to rest when I had the fated chance. If I had seen and if I had thought, then perhaps my family might have lived.

"It shall be worthwhile indeed when I have you", he said with a foreign look in those eternally blue eyes of his. One of his gloved hands made a journey across my features without touching the surface of my warm skin. He came so close that I felt his cold breath caress my skin. I was confused by his words and drew back away from him. His gaze followed me no matter where I went. In my haste to place much needed distance between us, I almost fell over the hem of my own garment. It wasn't that was fearful or felt the stabbing betrayal of my family. No, it was the feeling of sinking within quicksand. I fatally registered him as a man. He, of course, noticed my hasty actions.

"Why do you shy from me like a startled kitten my dear?" I remained silent and so he turned briefly and then faced me. My eyes were intent of the work of his hands as he stripped off his leather gloves. His work finished he said, "Do I make you _uneasy_?" He approached me again and I stood my ground, unwilling, even then, to give in to him more than I had to. He came closer yet and I was surrounded by the scent of him. All so foreign to me and yet all too strangely enticing. I remained unmoving as one of his pale hands made intimate contact with the side of my face. His touch was icy and gentle; a contradiction in itself. Like the man I supposed. For a mad moment I thought he might give me my first kiss. I am ashamed to say that nothing within me was repulsed by the thought. If anything, there was a sense of anticipation within my rapidly beating heart. His other hand snaked its way to the central pin that held up the twist of my hair and removed it. The heavy fall of my hair was released from its confines and fell down my back. The cool wind blew gently and soft strands danced across my vision. I looked up and watched him watch me. There was something of wisdom in the fathomless depths of his eternally blue eyes. I felt the pad of his thumb brush along my delicate jaw line and colour stole to tint my cheeks as he said, "You will be such an enchanting beauty, I can see it now". His words warmed something inside of me when I knew they had no right to. My gaze fell demurely to the buttons of his jacket. Like all of his clothing, it was the colour of the darkest hue. His touch was never demanding of me, only gentle as if he knew more than I ever would. "You blush my dear, but there is no need for such modesty", he said in barely audible tones close to my ear. The cotton of his black jacket was soft beneath my hesitant fingertips.

"I have to leave", I said, but made no move to commit to my spoken declaration. He did nothing to allow me to leave and now I think of it, he risked his own safety allowing the remaining moments of darkness slip by. There is more evidence of his immense aura and the beginning of our strange relationship. I worried for _his _safety.

"Do worry that you are not safe in my presence?" He asked the rhetorical question and I needn't have answered for he raised my chin and saw the defiant answer. I was afraid of no man; alive or dead, prospering or cursed. He acquired a passive expression and replied with the characteristic tones of experience and wisdom, "One day, one day you and I will finish what _they _started". I gazed at him and I felt the hot stingy sensation of tears that wished to form in my eyes and fall to the autumn floor. He continued as I battled with unexpected emotion, "I have seen it all and know that it will forever end in blood. Our blood. Sorrowful as the thought may be, let us hope to provide a lesson to the rest of the world". A tear brimmed and fell from my lashes as I shut the sight of him from my mind. I hated the thought of appearing weak in his sight; I cursed the tears for the sign of weakness they were. There appeared to be a dawning in my soul as the heavy droplet trailed my smooth cheek. His cool hands soothed the hot tracks of my salty tears. "Do not think it weak to show emotion", he whispered. "I would give all my dark powers to breathe again. To be young and see the world through fresh and optimistic eyes is a wonderful thing. To cry shows only that you have a heart of gold my dear".

"I don't want to fight and cause the bloodshed of many".

He appeared to be genuinely moved by my tear-glazed expression and the emotion that coloured my sentence. Our surroundings started to become lighter and I knew time between this stranger and I was almost at an end. Through the trees I could make out my home and the high tower. The high spire of the tower still forever reaching above itself. My mind made the vague connection of Livia and the demon. Later I understood that it was her death that caused his fall from grace. It made me secretly compassionate for a creature that I was destined to destroy. I looked back to him and he spoke.

"Sometimes the fates are cruellest to those most innocent amongst us. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and I bare witness to that statement".

"I have no wish to see Hell-"

"Neither did I Anna, but we shall see where the road takes us never the less shall we not?" My head turned to the side and he lifted my chin once more. I did not resist the action as he said, "I must go too, but I had to see if the girl was sufficient and strong enough. The girl who will soon become the woman who _will_, in turn, give me eternal peace. Peace that I have craved for such a long time you cannot comprehend such a feat".

"Why must I be the one to cover my hands in blood?"

"There will never be another as worthy", he said. He came closer and looked deep into my glistening eyes, "Worthy enough to drag my soul back from Hell". With his last words still ringing in my mind; he was gone. I looked all around me and saw nothing. Nothing. There was nothing to assure me that I had not dreamed it as the faint rays of the sun finally streamed through the branches of the tress high above my head. I stood with the morning sun lighting the deep tones of my hair. I stood in complete bewilderment for an instant. I could not help, but wonder if I had dreamed it all. It was the rapid beating of my traitorous heart that told me I had indeed met with the King of Vampyres.

**END**


	3. Sarka

**Confusion? Get background info: "Carpe Diem"...that story I might get back to...writing...it's like a summer job for Ardina. **

_The night had progressed with a flavor of anticipation. The warm summer night wrapped the valley in a balm__ tinged with crushed foliage that seeped into the conservatory. It was a wide space with large potted plants along the sides of the outside-room. The center of the space was dominated by a glass topped table and wicker chairs. it was at this feature that the handsome dinner guests were to be found. Replete after a fine evening they had gathered here to enjoy the mellow flavor of the night. _

"What a beautiful night", said Leicus looking pointedly at the woman across from him. He could hear her heartbeat steadily beating in the calling rhythm of a human heart. "Is it not Sarka?" The woman in question allowed her lashes to lift and spared the young man with a green glance. She felt the heavy presence of her last master grow stronger as he obviously took the spoken query to task and brooded near her. It made her feel irritated and pleased at the same time. Irritated because she was no longer his _property_ to brood over and pleased because it gave her the inner glow that only sweet satisfaction at his jealously could bring. Weighing the moment adequately she replied in accented tones, "Yes, the night is filled with many beautiful things" Her slightly guttural accent only enhanced the light of appeal for the young Leicus who forgot the presence of his Elder. Whilst the young Leicus became lost in his own thoughts concerning the gracious hostess opposite him, his words had lit a spark of conversation amongst the other guests present.

The Elder or the former master of Sarka brooded in silence. He did not like the amount of attention this one worthless woman received. His blue eyes turned glacial as again she refused to heed his mental summons and look at him. Sarka was slightly turned from him and all he could see was her profile draped in Verillion. The brilliant green would undoubtedly do wondrous things to the penetrating condition of her eyes and it was as these thoughts occurred to him that he heard Leicus deliver a very similar assessment. It was at this moment that the already glacial colour of his eyes turned to chips of ice.

"And why is that Sarka?" Leicus asked the question with a teasing glint in his eye apparently unaware of the tension radiating off his Elder. The young man's eyes were only for the woman named Sarka as her heart played the most enticing lullaby.

"Would you believe me if I told you I have never met a man worthy of loving?"

"There are many men that walk the earth-"

"I hope you are not suggesting that I should seek them all out?" She uttered the reply sweetly enough, but the brooding Elder almost laughed to himself. It would seem that in his years away from her she had developed a far more eloquent tongue to deal with his world. He had half expected _whore_ to have been muttered somewhere in that sentence from her.

"I stopped myself before I made any female comparisons", said Leicus carefully and then continued, "For you are far better in any comparison, but still, love is like air. We must have it to live".

Sarka regarded the sentiments, but said nothing at first with her dark lashes once more lowered to the table. "You seem to hold incredibly idealist views, perhaps you need a story to disillusion you-"

"That could never happen", came the swift rebuff.

"Then you have never contemplated the difference between love and lust?"

"One is more acceptable to you than the other?"

"Of course", Sarka replied as she lowered her glass of wine to the table. The amber liquid left a faint sheen across her lower lip, "The latter rather than the former".

"Then tell me this story for we appear to have been left to our own devices", said Leicus whilst referring to the lack of interest in their conversation. She allowed a moment's pause before gently rising and moving to gently trace the veins of the foliage behind her. The candle light caught the shimmering sheen of the gold at her wrists and she was very much aware of the older man weighing down upon her senses. At last she spoke:

"Oh, I watched & hoped,

My green eyes betraying my greatest sin,

A sin that quietly seathed whilst the lighter damsels flirted & flitted.

My fire,

My beauty,

My devotion.

All eclipsed by the blessedly haloed ones with blue eyes.

My emeralds were nothing in the face of his dear sapphires.

Why even the soft browns of a princess were his demands in striking contrast to my leaves of Nightshade. And what do you think it is that I desired?

Do you think it is to quench my other six deadly sins?

No, it was not,

But heated still is my ire. A feathered caress. A soft lover's whisper. The feel of an azure sky gazing back at me. My porcelain flesh a further tremor to shatter. The damnation of my soul…

But alas, so tragic is unrequited…", she paused in her words and took a slow turn to face the object of her monologue before she continued in nothing more than an enticing whisper, "…_Lust_".


	4. Nimue

_**My Dark Place Alone**_

The day was slowly fading to night with its last rays striving to warm to snow covered ground. Its golden light fell across the cold ground and cast intriguing shadows against the sharp contrast of the mountainous terrain. The shadows grew around the rocks and scrub as the light retreated and the night sky chased the rays from the heavens. In all but a few moments the day had sucumbed to the night. Dark as the night was the snow threw light back at the shadows as it glowed with an odd purity. It created a different kind of shadow that moved of its own free will.

_Sigh_

It was a long drawn out sigh that punctuated the unatural silence of the new night. The shadow emerged from the cover of a great pine to stand in the clearing of snow. To stare at the shadow would make one wonder if it was even there at all. It's outline continuously moved, as if with the breeze, and no footprint marred the virginal snow. The dark void stood for a moment as the moon began her ascent across the night sky.

"Anape", the shadow whispered and turned to seat itself againt the trunk. At the feminine command footprints appeared in the snow and the shadow revearled itself as a woman.

She rested her head against the knarled bark of the pine and closed her eyes giving a passerby the opportunity to study the figure. In the cold snow rested a weary woman. She was dressed in black from the bottom of her black boots to the long scarf that had fallen around her neck. She lacked a jacket to protect her from the cold bite of the night. The plain black tee-shirt rode up above her back jeans exposing her alabaster skin to the snow. The figure did not move to ease her apparent discomfort. She lacked adornment of any kind save for a longsword that sat acros her knees. If the fine decoration that covered the hilt and scabbard were used to judge quality then the weapon was a superb piece that was old and, more disconcerting, serviceable. Her fingertips traced the crest of a dragon that covered the locket of the scabbard. It seemed to comfort the woman as she raised her head and sat up against the rough bark.

Her eyes looked up from the weapon and focused on the depths of the surrounding darkness as she spoke, "Come". Her accent was indistinguishable as if she had travelled to many places taking a piece with her at every turn. "Come Rashel", she spoke once more.

From out of the darkness appeared a large feline who padded silently toward to the woman. As the creature reached its mistress she reached out to bring the animal closer and said, "I know you were there. Why do you hide from me?" The large feline lay on its side near the woman as if to offer her warmth from the cold. "Why do you hide?" She asked the creature again and a rumbling was her only answer as she ran her hand down the animals flank. Its warm fur was a mottled grey that was covered in black spots. The pattern continued till it tapered off down the animals long tail which looked like it had been dipped in a cauldron of black ink. The creatures large head twisted to rest in the womans lap with it's large blue eyes regarding her with intelligence. The action spoke of the long familiarity between the two. The woman looked away toward the moon which now hung some way in the jewelled sky. "We will go home soon Rashel I promise then you can hunt all the ibyx you want till your hearts content huh?" The creature continued to gaze at its mistress until she looked down into his accusatory stare. She relented and stroked his ears as she said, "I was curious Rashel. I wanted to see what they had here in these mountains that they protect so vigorously-"

The woman was interrupted by a growl from her creature.

"Yes, I now know so why did I stay and help the boy?" She sighed and looked out to the moon again before continuing, "Well, he is technically my great nephew so I was quite justified in stepping in before the little mutt was made history by that Vampyre". She looked down at Rashel again, "But you are right my demon companion, it was not the best idea to become involved because now they know that there is something out there capable of killing". Shaking off her depressing thoughts the woman raised herself from the ground with effortless grace and turned to her creature, "Come Rashel, the night is the most interesting time to travel. Who knows what Gregori and my princely brother have planned in order to find us?"

Rashel growled in response before lifting himself to his four paws and silently padded after the woman.

"Yes, I should not be looking forward to spitting their ungrateful hides", she said as she strapped the longsword back between her lithe shoulderblades. Another growl was ready to be emitted from the creature so she continued in haste, "But yes, I know, I know! We are home bound!" With a huff she spoke the word of power that would hide them from prying eyes and continued walking toward the border.

The night hung heavy around the two companions as they traversed further from her brothers layer. The occasional hoot of an owl that had unsettled her previously was not to be heard again and she found herself wishing for it. The ground was as silent as death. She could feel the mounting pressure that demanded she halt and wait for her hunters.

_So the dears have cast a rune net? How very proficient_.

The woman's thoughts turned acidic when she calculated the cost of a counter spell. Any mild amusement was dispelled when she thought of the energy she would need to transport herself back home once she was clear of Gregori's influence. She did not have time to play games with her Holier than thou brother; Mikhail Dubrinsky. The Prince of all that was Carpathian since their father's death so many centuries ago. As she forced her way through the cloying magic of the runes she thought about her half brother and all that he was.

The woman had been gone for many years, but even as she had stepped over the threshold of the sprawling mansion that was her brother's home she had felt the rebuffal. The old house had once housed her father too. She had only lived there briefly once as she was more of a dark stain across her fathers unblemished and honorable past. Her mother had been a Fae and as beautiful as the night was dark across the mountains. Fae were transient creatures never staying in one place for too long and they were also known for their supposed trickery. Her father had been away from his lifemate that night and a Fae had found him dying from his bout with stronger Vampyres. She lured him delibrately it was said in order he may give her a child. Whether she lured him or he fell under the Fae's hypnotic spell mattered little to the woman. It did not prevent her from gaining the hate of her father's lifemate. It did not prevent her from being left alone. She was the first child born to her father, but it did not matter. At least Mikhail's birth a few moons later would have soothed some of the hurt of her father's lifemate. A boy to rule.

_A boy to rule in the same archaic fashion!_

The moment she thought it a tree bougher snapped in two and fell to the snow covered ground. At the tremendous noise in such a still night Rashel whined and she cursed her lack of discipline. Her persuers would have surely picked up the trace of magic? She did not dwell upon it as she increased her pace in the dark and attempted to quell the anger within as her mind continued wandering down forgotten roads.

She had not been able to follow her mother to the land of the Fae for she was only a half-breed and it seemed unworthy of both worlds. After scarcely a moon spent with her father she had been handed over to the guardianship of another. She had never seen her guardian as a small child. She had lived in a beautiful tower made of ivory with all the toys she could have wanted. The women that cared for her were kind and beautiful, but with a terrible sadness in their eyes as they gazed out of the window every night as if waiting for someone. Her early years were hard to recall, but the vibrant colours of silks and the tang of spice remained easy to recollect.

It was her tenth summer when she finally laid eyes of her illusive benefactor. Her father had visited her earlier in the evening and brought her a crystal pendant that glinted in the light. It was a fascinating trinket for a ten year old girl. Later she had tired of her greek prose and sought the shelter of her favourite spot in the gardens. The moon hung high in the sky throwing little sparks of light on the childs prism. The warm breeze laden with jasmine and honeysuckle swirled gently across the ornamental pond as she sat quietly. "Should you not be in bed child?" The voice was so very unexpected that she dropped her precious possession into the dark water. With a cry she dropped to her hands and knees, but knew she would not be able to find her prism in the dark water. With anger lighting her pixie features she turned to the intruder and placed the blame on his shoulders. "You wretched cretin, you-" She did not finish her lists of insults as it registered that she had never seen him before. He was very tall. Taller than her father with cold blue eyes as he regarded her. Dressed in entirely black he was a contrast to the child's jubilant peach pinafore. He instilled fear in her as something she did not recognise locked into place within her soul. More disconcerting was the blood and dirt that marked him. Her trepidation must have shown on her face because he said, "Did you see your father today?" He stripped off a glove and moved towards the ornamental pool with long strides. As his Hessian boots clicked closer and closer across the tiles the child gathered her courage refusing to be cowed by his closing prescence. It was hard to push past the fear that stole her voice, but she replied, "Yes, I saw my father today". He dropped to one knee before the ornamental pool and washed the traces of blood from his hand. The action brought him to the same level as the child. It gave her view of his profile and the longsword that hung from a scabbard. A dragon was engraved there which she stared at with fascination. He turned to look directly at her, "He is pleased with your studies and how much you have grown. Did you tell him that you can walk in the daylight?" At the stranger's latter comment she looked startled and asked sharply, "How do you know I go outside?" A ghost of a smile played across his face and then he held one hand over the dark water of the ornamental pond. She turned to look at the water as a bubbling began and a mere moment later her prism pendant rose up to meet his hand. "Go and sleep little Nim for I am sure you will need your rest in order to find the weapon keep tmorrow yes?" With that he had turned and walked away from her without waiting to see if she did as he said.

Pulling from the memory she stopped in snow and pulled the longsword from its scabbard. The weapon glinted in the sparse light. Its familiar weight was comforting in her hand. Whether knowingly or not he had started her life long interest in the art of combat and magic. That night she had gone to sleep with her dainty pendant locked in her small fist and her dreams filled with visions of beautiful swords and the power behind them. She had found the weapon keep in the light of day. The sword she had found across her pillow on her sixteenth summer. The same summer that her ivory tower was brought down in flame and she was cast out into the wilderness. The woman looked at the sword once more before placing it back in the scabbard and returning to her steady pace. The empty night mirrored her soul and the hollow echo returned her thoughts.

_How can I still mourn the loss of a man I did not know?_

The strange ache intensified underneath her breast bone whenever she recalled his image. The uncomfortable sensation bothered her frequently these days and because she was a fool she brought the heel of her hand to rub at the spot in the hope of easing the burden. What _if_ he had survived to see her now? Would he have been pleased she had not sucumbed to the many evils in the world? _Well, not the really bad ones at least_, she thought with a slight grimace. She was certainly not a child in a peach pinafore anymore.

_And what would he think of me as a woman?_

As soon as the thought left occured she brought the flat of her hand to her forehead with a resounding smack. _Don't even think it!_ She silently scolded herself, but her thoughts continued to flow freely despite the self derision. She did not think much of the male race after her first entanglement when she was young and she vowed that there were important things to accomplish. It proved a good excuse and an even better one when just being a viable female made her a target to a Vampyre. _Something about a woman's capability to bring only light to their lives_, she recited like a good Carpathian female should. _Not for me, I'm content in the wilds with Rashel, the one I thought to bring light to - _She never finished as she remembered his love of fine women. Those that had cared for her and gazed out of windows with such hope. It was only later, removed from his protection and out in the world did she realise their purpose. She thought of their adornments and pouts and their sheer fragility. _No, maybe it is better this way. Half Fae I may be, but I'm more likely to take what I want than pout for it_. She smiled at the thought.

The feel of some one searching the peripherals of her conscious mind brought her back to reality. Their light brush showed they were still looking for the unknown. Their gentle probing was more like a scorching brand. In her opinion they used barbaric techniques, but then not everyone had the silence and solace to teach them the unknown. The woman retracted herself from the night. She did not want them to find her yet and so they would not. How she would love to reveal herself and curse their ungrateful hides for seeking her out like an animal. Rashel growled to remind her where her spontaneous thoughts had taken her previously.

_Oh come now Rashel. I would be in no danger. I am beginning to wander why they are searching soo vigourously? They don't know who I am and even if they did I doubt they would persue me with this much effort. Whilst I realise I would be useful to Mikhail's little breeding programme I doubt I'd be worth the fight._

She stopped and regarded her environment. The trees were thining at the high altitude and the snow was thicker which hid the jagged points of large boulders. The woman pulled her hand through her long dark hair. She had reached the boundary of their magic. If she turned she would be able to see the wilds of Transylvania. It was dead country. As far as she knew only wild magic inhabited this area. From what she had read her guardian had been overlord here and since his disappearance none had taken over his lands. She had gleamed this knowledge from the texts within her brothers house some years ago. She had seen the written words. She knew it was true and yet she felt an odd menacing chill run down her spine as she turned to regard the moutains in the distance. A little further and she would be free to summon her persuers and then she may even cart them to her home where only her magic prevailed.

The woman continued the next hour along the path that would have crippled a mere mortal. Her easy graceful movements were perfectly in time with those of her demon companion. She remembered well that first night when the demon had made itself known as her companion. Rashel had been a gift from her mother on her sixteenth birthday. Rashel had been accompanied by a note stating, "You have need of companionship". How apt her beautiful, but distant mother had been.

"Little Nim", came a voice that jolted her from her reverie. She twisted sharply with power humming at her fingertips. There was no one to see, but a startled Rashel looking up at her with questioning eyes. She could not detect anything as she cast her senses into the night. "I am sorry Rashel, the voices from my past seem to be calling to me tonight", she said and rubbed his ears. "More so than usual", she muttered and continued her walk.

"Nimue"

It was no figment of her imagination. She could hear him calling her name. _He_ was calling her name after all this time. All thoughts of her persuers were chased from her mind. She turned in a slow circle desperately trying to source the sound. Her unnatural heart beat a unnerving tattoo against her chest.

"Are you still playing with swords little girl?"

Twisting again she could still not see the source of the sound and Rashel showed no signs of even registering the sound of a voice. He simply waited patiently for her to continue. _It must be a trick, but how would they know to use his voice?_ She thought to herself not daring to voice her thoughts out loud. _It must be a trick to slow me down!_ She thought irrationally and cast before she knew what spell she chose. "Epitat!" She all but shouted in her moment of panic. The night seemed to strech in its very fabric as her power reverberated against it. The spell to show her true forms showed her nothing but the outer net of the rune magic. There was nothing to see. She had wasted energy and quite possibly drawn more attention to herself in the process out of sheet fright.

"And what did that prove? I know the limit to your powers Nimue. Do not attempt to best me". The voice held a note of menace. It inhabited the night around her and fear became known as it pooled in a bottomless pit in her stomach. This was something new and she felt unprepared for it.

She felt cornerd and trapped like an animal. He disappeared long ago. There was nothing logical about hearing his voice after so long? Why did it affect her so? She had seen him but a few times and at that the moments she had shared with him were not of any significance. What did the voice mean? She was going to drive herself to insanity with all these questions, but her rigid discipline set in. Her mind was agile and quickly decided upon a course of action.

She turned with her arms outstreched and with a whispered word of power a circular cloud began to grow. Rashel growled deep in his throat and back towards the shadow of a boulder as he sensed the magic growing around her. The frigid air became alive with charged particles as she drew upon the raw magic, "I call to my seekers. I demand they stand before me!" With a flash of light and a gust of wind that blew her hair around her head like a dark halo the smoke disappated to reveal the figure of a man.

"I may have to correct myself my dear when I said I knew the limits of your power. Apparently you are full of suprises", came a familiar dark voice that drifted over her.

Before her stood her old guardian. As if she had only just watched him walk away from the ornamental pool she had loved so much. He stood in her enclosing circle created by the spell held immobile except for the power of speach. All in black as always, but this time she was in possession of the sword. He gazed directly at her with eyes as blue as the seas she had travelled. It could not be the same man. A Vampyre maybe, but not the Carpathian she had briefly known. "Who are you?" She demanded in an authorative voice.

"Release me Nimue", was the only response she received. The light cast from the magic circle drew erie shadows across his face.

Rashel growled low in his throat with wicked fangs exposed at the new comer.

"I asked you a question"

"You know who I am as you knew from the first, I meant you no harm girl", he said. "Count-"

"I am no girl and the man you speak of is dead to this world so I ask you once more who are you?" Her anger was sparked and replaced the fear for instant.

"Always so very stubborn", he said more to himself than her. Before her eyes he flicked his wrist and her spell was no more. The light faded and he spread his arms and uttered a word of commading power, "Come to me".

She watched in horror as he swept through her mental defences using an ancient command to summon her to his side. She fought the vicious pull that was determined to make her obey. She would not walk up to her death with a smile on her face. She fell to her hands and knees in the snow as she struggled against his command. Whilst her body fought to obey him her mind rebelled at her lack of freedom. Rashel sensed his mistress' struggled and would have leaped at the intruder, but a soft word and a gaze had the demon companion laying passively at his side.

Sweat broke out across her body as she struggled to fight against his command to obey. She could feel it snaking a cold path between her heaving breasts. She sat there glaring at him from under her thick lashes with accusing brown eyes. She watched him stroke the thick pelt of Rashel with hands she had seen before. He turned to look at her, "Come to me Nimue".

At his reinforced words another round of pain shot through her as she resisted. Seething she spat, "No".

He saw the pain and regarded her with a quizzical expression. "You are in pain. I do not understand why you resist me", he said.

"I will not be forced and you are not real. You died. You were killed at Embaklea", she said in a rush. "My father and others they were also killed there. They burnt everything. There was nothing. Only the young ones survived-"

"I am not dead Nimue. Others yes, but not I", he said as he advanced on her as she retreated into the snow. "Your brother and Gregori were looking for you quite desperately at my request. I am no shadow Nimue", he said softly. "You have been thinking of me yes? I have been looking for you", he said.

"I do not need a guardian at my age", she said quietly looking down into the snow.

"You were mine from a very early age my dear", came his husky response. "You fight it so well. I can feel you learning the patterns of the magic and bending it to your will", he commented watching the calculation flit across her expressive face. "As I can see you will resist me I might as well take liberties", he said and flicked his wrist in her direction this time. Before she could utter a comment a cool sensation drifted over her and her practical clothes disappated into a long strapless gown. The midnight black folds pooled around her as she still sat in the snow. A generous length of leg was exposed by the deliberate split. She looked wanton and wild with her magic coursing around her. "How very Medieval", was her only comment.

"No claws trying to rip out my eyes?"

"You'd be a terrible guardian for a woman my age"

"Really?"

"Really, your idea of practicle dress is ridiculous-"

She never finished her sentence as the sound of his laughter drifted over her. With her head bent to the snow she listened and the ache within her grew.

His laughter subsided and he regarded her with a sigh. "Ah Nimue, I have waited for you to come of age so you can bring the light into my life", he tilted her chin up to face his own. The moonlight caught the fine sheen of tears in her eyes as she tried to look away from him. "Why are you sad? Have you not wanted me to find you my dear?"

Taking him by suprise she used her lithe weight to topple him into the snow so she straddled him. Unware of their intimate position in heat of her anger she said, "How dare you think me ungrateful! You obnoxious pig!" She announciated her next words with her fists delivering a satisfying thump, "I was not a pet to be kept. I might not even like you! A half-breed cannot make a life mate you, you-"

Before she could continue he laced his fingers through her hair and stole what little breath she had left in her lungs with the force of his passionate kiss. She kissed him back with devastating hunger and moaned as her full breasts brushed his chest. He was satisfied with the glazed look in her eye and the bruised blush of her lips when he pulled back and said, "Tell me you cannot feel my soul yearning for yours my little half-breed".

She was rendered speechless as she felt the world move around her. That strange feeling she had been unable to identify as a child and the strange longing she had experienced without him began ease. She was home.


End file.
